You Won't Get This Life Again
by Andromeda247
Summary: You only live once, the saying goes. It should be "You won't get this life again." The Marauders go on a road trip in Spain. Sirius yearns to live, James has forgotten to live. They meet Remus and Lily in Spain who teach them how to feel alive. And Peter would just like to get out of this alive, thank you very much.


**Delphi Village, Phocis, Greece**

"Marry me." The words, barely louder than a whisper seemed to echo down in the valley and reach all the way to the Bay of Corinth.

Peter Pettigrew's heart beat in his throat as he awaited for his answer.

His girlfriend's lips curled downwards, and she gave a disbelieving look at him. "Peter, please..."

Fine, thought Peter. Time to channel James or Sirius. He looked at her smugly. "Nat, _please_ marry me."

Nat looked at him unhappily. "But-but what are you saying?"

Peter sighed mentally and looked across, the soft light of the dying sun in the hills jogging his memory to the Golden Days...to the bleary light of the blood red sun sinking below the odd, egg-shaped hill in Eigg. The northern Scotland town was quiet and dark already.

Peter remembered Sirius saying, "The popular saying goes, 'You only live once.'"

Peter Pettigrew could almost hear James Potter's voice as he chose to heartily disagree with this and proclaiming loudly in their first year: "You won't get this life again, which is why, damn it, Peter, we're gonna go to Spain, we are, but first we also need to go through with the pencil prank-"

Sirius, jumping on the four-poster beds had emphatically agreed, black curls bouncing around so much that Peter was afraid they were going to fall off. "Jamsie is right-"

"DON'T call me that-" James intercepted, trying to pounce on Sirius, but failing miserably and falling to the floor in a heap like a collapsed house of cards because his feet were entangled in his blankets.

Sirius snorted and continued smoothly, "As I was saying, this _prat_ right here is right, and Peter, we need your stealth to make sure you steal every single pencil in McGonagall's office."

Peter's heart was pounding, and his stomach turning. "But McGonagall is the h-hardest and strictest teacher and what if I get caught?"

But peer pressure had pulled him into the prank, and before he knew it he was accompanying the other two boys on every single prank they pulled. They became legends, the three of them. Sure, he did mostly what the other two did and was terrified of Sirius when he was in his moods, and Peter actually though James was a _God_ on the soccer field, but there was nothing wrong in following.

He just wanted to meet everyone's expectations. He just wanted to please everyone, and then maybe nothing bad would ever happen to him.

Although James and Sirius had punched anyone who had ever dared to do anything to him. He grinned widely at the memory.

"Peter?" his fiancée Natasha looked down at him worriedly.

 _Right,_ thought Peter. _I forgot I'm stuck in this mess. I also forgot the Marauders stopped existing like four years ago, that James and Sirius still won't-_

He took a deep breath.

"Natasha," he breathed, looking at the golden girl above him. In the dying light of the late Greek sun, her blond hair looked like a halo around her. Her green eyes were as green as the olive groves below, cheekbones as sharp as the jagged mountains of Greece. Or perhaps as sharp as the tip of the plateau in Eigg, on the tiny, inconsequential island of hope...Peter fought down a wave of nostalgia.

Nostalgia came to him on days like this. Days when nothing ever went his way. "Please, please, marry me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I am serious about you, I love you," Peter murmured.

Natasha's thunderous expression was clearing up. "Peter, I can't believe it!" She tugged Peter to his feet and threw her arms around. "I thought I was the only serious one in this relationship. I can't believe it!" she marvelled.

Peter hugged her back, ignoring how his mind was hesitating. For someone as average looking as him, a beautiful model-looking girl like Natasha was too good to be true. And thus, ignoring the emptiness in his heart he kissed her.

* * *

 **Elbasan, Albania**

It was early morning when the knock on his small, wooden door sounded. "I'll get it," Sirius said to Andromeda who was helping Ted with his tie. The little house on the hill overlooking the city rarely got any visitors.

"No, I'll get it!" Andy, Andromeda and Ted's daughter bolted from the dining table and into the living room.

"Who could it be?" Ted asked.

"Maybe it's Mrs. Uruci from downstairs," suggested Sirius. "She might have run out of flour again. Or maybe she's come to give us more homemade raki." Sirius grew excited at the thought of raki. It was quite like Odgen's Firewhisky, the same one they used to have at Kildonnan, gazing up at the Egg-shaped rock above them. Then they would sneak into the school very drunk, waking up half the teachers and students.

It had been beautiful. Deep blue skies and seas, mountains. The best part? There were almost no people on the island. Aside from the students, the population of the town was around 87. Having lived in London most of his life, Sirius was sick of people.

But he could not go down that road anymore. The Marauders were no more.

And that's why he'd moved to Albania. Although Elbasan was the third largest city in Albania, the mountains and the beaches were clear. The rocky beaches and harsh unforgiving terrain reminded him of his happy school days and he felt truly free. It was also an added bonus that the people were so welcoming here. And another added bonus- the Blacks would never think of finding the Black Sheep of the Black family in Albania.

"Sirius, Sirius!" Nymphadora yelled excitedly. "Peter's here!"

Peter Pettigrew squeezed his bulky frame through the narrow arch of the kitchen door, looking very sunburnt and freckled. Was Edinburgh truly so sunny these days? Then came the familiar surge of affection he felt for his friends. "Peter!" He pulled the boy into a headlock and ruffling his hair, he asked, "What the hell are you doing here? How did you get here? The flights only land in Tirana at eight, and it's three hours away! What-"

"You're rambling, Sirius," said Andromeda and Sirius realised Peter was turning blue from the headlock. He released Peter who stumbled into a tiny chair (which had been timely pushed into place by a very amused Ted) and simply raised his right hand at Sirius.

Sirius did not miss the glowing diamond the size of a small country (okay, maybe Sirius did tend to exaggerate a bit).

"You're engaged?" Sirius demanded. "To who?"

"Natasha," Peter grinned.

"The hot girl you met on your vacation to Greece last year?"

"Yeah," said Peter, a dreamy expression overtaking his face. "I asked her last night. In Greece. We've been there for three months, meeting with her family. Took a train up north to Sarandë, switched lines to the HSH and came here."

"You poor dear, such a long journey!" Andromeda fussed, while Sirius was still gaping at his friend. _Peter's married? To that hot girl? Can I organise the wedding?_

 _"_ It was fine," reassured Peter.

"You asshole!" Sirius said loudly.

Everyone jumped. Andy covered Nymphadora's ears. "You _asshole_ ," repeated Sirius, who was enjoying Peter looking terrified. "You've been in Greece for three months and you couldn't make a four hour journey to see your best mate who's in the next country?"

For a second, Sirius thought Peter, too, was going to say as James had, " _You're not my best mate."_ He didn't think he could have handled two rejections.

To his relief, Peter simply squeaked out, "S-sirius, it's not like that-"

Sirius decided to save him. "I know," he said. "Tell me everything." He grinned. "I can't believe you're married to someone _hot."_

 _"_ Don't steal her like you stole Suzanna," Peter sniped.

There was utter silence. Sirius wore a thunderous expression. "Too soon?" squeaked Peter.

"Too soon, four years too soon." agreed Sirius. "Continue."

Peter shushed him and said, "First of all, you and James are the best men. I know you guys have problems-"

"I don't have a problem with him," Sirius mumbled. "He has a problem with me."

"Whatever," Peter said forcefully. "The second thing is this."

He dumped the contents of his backpack on the floor. Dozens of booklets and maps fell out. Sirius picked one of them up, the question forming on his lips, but as soon as he glanced at the title, the question died.

It was the Lonely Planet's Guide to Spain.

He was not going. Not at all.

The sunrise hit them through the small windowpane, fiery orange rays filtered in from the fig trees, through the Albanian Alps, hitting the blood red sea some miles away in Durrës. Across the sea, across the English Channel, the sun hit everywhere.

* * *

 **Canary Wharf, London, U.K**

The bright yellow rays hit the dark Thames and the Shard, and all the other buildings of Canary Wharf. It seemed that the Financial District was on fire. It resembled a sight only seen in the Great London Fire of 1666. It was a magnificent sight, beheld only by a lucky few.

James Potter, the sole person in office right now at the crack of dawn was not focused on this sight at all. Because everything around him was utter chaos.

The fax machine had been ejecting papers non-stop from the Indians, who really wanted know what had happened to their January deal.

The Greeks kept emailing him to reconsider withdrawing their investments and denying that, no, they were not having an economy crisis.

The unopened post on his desk from the French was the French being bitter about Brexit and that they would not longer be trading with the company.

There were three voicemails on the office landline from Saudi Arabian delegates, wanting to know what had happened to the fiscal plans.

James was taking care of all this, all the while he was having a video conference with Mr. Adaki, the head of a Japanese company who wanted to know where his textile order had gone.

He also kept excusing himself from the Skype call to chat with the Germans who wanted know where their Auto deal had gone.

It was utter chaos.

 _You would have loved it once,_ said a voice in James' head that sounded too much like Sirius.

 _But people change,_ James reminded himself. Sirius was living proof of that. _Working in this awful job is worth it, the pressure is worth it because I'm making so much money, and I'll retire by forty, and then I can go back to my parents saying I made all this money._

 _Prongs, you got your first grey hair. You're only 23._ Sirius-in-his-head reminded James. _Your parents left you behind money._

 _But I want more._

But that was it, wasn't it? He had nothing else to live for. Soccer? A dead dream. Love? A fool's dream.

 _What happened to that optimistic, loyal, brave boy?_ Sirius was back.

 _You killed him,_ James thought.

After managing to take control of the situation, James made his way downstairs where the pretty receptionist berated him again for staying the night and the guard, used to him staying nights saluted him, James checked his phone. His personal phone.

He opened the texts from Peter.

 ** _Call me back immediately._**

 ** _JAMES  
_**

 ** _WHERE ARE YOU_**

 ** _Call me!_**

James checked his voicemail, and Peter had left one. At first he thought the Sirius in his head was back. But there was no doubt, it was Sirius' voice, clear as day, aristocratic as ever.

"James, get your head out of your arse and call us back!"

James scowled.

"James, when you get the time, please call back," interjected Peter.

James frowned. He checked his email. Peter had emailed him as well. He opened it.

It was an itinerary of Spain.

 _No,_ he thought.

 _Yes,_ Sirius said in his head.

He put down his phone. He wasn't going to call back Peter. He knew he should go, but he had to close the Japanese deal. He simply had to. And he had to deal with the Germans. He couldn't go off on a vacation right now.

 _Have you had a single vacation in four years? You've already turned this down once,_ Sirius whined.

 _NO._

He was not going. Not at all.

 _It was your idea,_ Sirius yelled in his head.

It had been.

* * *

 **7 Years Ago: Kildonnan, Eigg, Scotland**

Sirius was looking up at Orion. The constellation thankfully. Sirius' father was a complete and utter nightmare. Fleamont, James' father often spoke of him in dark tones, and Fleamont _never_ used dark tones for anyone. James glanced at Sirius again. The boy looked utterly morose.

He made eye contact at Peter. _Say something,_ he willed silently.

Peter gave a vague expression of _What can I do?_

James sighed. He knew Peter didn't have a way with words. "Er- Sirius? Mate?"

Sirius didn't even look in James' direction. "What?" he said testily. The moonlight hit the smoke from the blunt, leaving Sirius half-obscured, just as Sirius' true nature was always half-hidden from his friends. For Sirius, you always had to guess what he was feeling.

"Do you want to talk about it?" James ploughed on determined.

Sirius looked like he was going to snap at James some more, but instead, he said, "Don't you want to feel it?"

"Feel what?" asked Peter.

"Alive." Sirius answered simply.

The word seemed to reverberate around the Scottish countryside. For a moment all was silent and the only things they could hear was the leaves rustling on the mountaintops or the waves washing up on shore.

James broke the silence. "What do you mean?" James was concerned for his friend now.

"I want to feel. I want to live. I want FEEL, damn it!" James could sense the famous Black temper bubbling up to the surface now.

"Keep your voice down," Peter implored him, looking paranoid at the ancient, quiet school on the hill.

"They're all the way up there," reasoned James, trying to reassure him as well.

Sirius was now calmer. "I want to live my best life, not worry anymore, not have the ache of your own family not wanting you."

James knew he could never understand the family issue. But he tried anyway. "How will you feel alive? I mean, what are you going to do?"

Sirius looked at them both like he had discovered the cure to cancer. Or maybe that was the marijuana talking.

Inhaling smoke, he let it out slowly. "I feel alive when we're doing a prank. Or when we're running- I have it! I feel alive when it's dangerous!"

He stood up on the narrow ledge and James immediately jumped up. Peter looked terrified. "Sirius! What are you doing?"

"Looking down gives me the rush. Look down, James."

James looked down. He saw the dark chasm, the deep void of the valley. But he didn't get the rush he did from pranks. Fear curled in his stomach and settled. "Sirius-"

"Look!" bellowed Sirius. "Isn't it amazing?"

 _Amazing, zing, zing,_ echoed his voice over the valley.

"Get down, Sirius," begged James.

"You get down," Sirius insisted.

"Not without you."

Sirius turned his intense gaze on James. Finally, he relented, probably remembering James was scared of heights. He jumped down. "Sorry," he mumbled.

James felt the tension release from his shoulders. Or perhaps the blunt had finally hit.

Turns out, the blunt had hit. "I love this," James gushed. He suddenly got up. "I have an idea!"

"What?" asked Peter, lazily.

"Adventure sports!"

"What?" asked Peter, still not getting it.

But excitement was coursing through him now. "Exactly!" said Sirius, eyes shining now. Black was back.

"We have to take trip." James hurried through the words in his eagerness. "When we're out of here and older, we take a trip. And then the three of us choose an extreme sport each, and we don't tell the others what the sport it so no one can back out. And then we surprise them!"

Peter bit his lip. He looked worried, so James went on, "But we're all in it together!"

Sirius looked more cheerful now. "But where are we going to go? There has to be a bit of, what do you call it, _pizazz_ to the place. And hot girls. And guys." He added the last bit very queitly. James, however, was not going to let him feel bad right now.

"And good food, and the sea," put in Peter.

Sirius hated water, yet he was enthusiastically nodding.

Pizazz, girls, dancing, food, warmth..."And soccer," added James thoughtfully. "Spain!" he blurted.

And it was settled. Extreme sports in Spain.

"MARAUDERS!" they roared.

 _'rauders,_ the valley yelled back.


End file.
